


Shared Patches

by blockiebee



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Best Friends, Comfort, No Beta We Die Like Wilbur in Skyblockle, Sibling Bonding, elements of minecraft and real life, jus some wholesome tommy and tubbo, technoblade actually has emotions other than fightfightfight, tommy learns to sew!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27341458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blockiebee/pseuds/blockiebee
Summary: so like everyone has been drawing tommy with a handkerchief around his neck right? what if it was green,,, and its like a piece of one of tubbos old shirt so he always has his friend with him.just a random thing i thought up of :]
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 7
Kudos: 264





	1. Chapter 1

Two friends sit on a weathered oak wood bench, clad in matching uniforms, a proud article of their nation. Unusually, the sounds of fighting and arson are rid of the area. Sounds of wind whistling, leaves ruffling softly in trees, buzzing bees, chirping grasshoppers, and the music of a disc named "Mellohi" coming from an out of tune jukebox mingle their way throughout the open air. The boys lean back in content, enjoying one another's presence, while keeping an ear out for any intruders. One sits with eyes shut, taking in the sensation of the wind blowing through their overgrown, chesnut-coloured hair. The other studies the statue in front of him with icy blue eyes while hundreds of thoughts swirl in his mind. 

Tubbo quickly notices the silence of their typically rambunctious best friend. They can tell the other teen has a lot on his mind: anxiety about the election, fear of further betrayal, and most taxing of all, the pains of war. Unwilling to let Tommy suffer in silence any longer they break the rare tranquility.

"Alright, so you know how we were originally on the server?" Tubbo asks.

Tommy leans forward from his laid-back position. Letting both forearms come to rest against the tops of his thighs he clasps his hands together, and with a curious head tilt looks at Tubbo. He replies simply, "Yeah." 

Tubbo wasn't really sure where they wanted to go with conversation after breaking the silence, all they knew was that they wanted to draw Tommy's mind away from whatever endless pit it was falling into. When Tubbo didn't immediately follow up his first sentence, the sulking blonde knew they were at a loss whether to continue the conversation or not.

"Keep talking, go on, keep talking" Tommy encourages.

Twisting their fingers together, Tubbo starts again. "Okay, um, from the beginning it's been you and me. We're had our quarrels but overall its been, its been a hell lot of fucking fun Tommy." They sigh, presenting Tommy a small smile before continuing. "It's been great, it's been just so great, and I have something for you which was actually the first one of my things that I actually valued on the server, much like your music discs to me." Tubbo reaches out into the open air in front of themself and summons a particular spikey, yellow item from their inventory. Watching its owner delicately hold the item between two hands, Tommy identifies the yellow blob as a dried up pufferfish. Faintly a name tag hovers above it which reads, 'Phuckit'.

The younger teen turns his attention away from the fish when the older begins talking again. "Actually, I thought this was lost ages ago but I found it again today. You know what, consider it a token of good luck for the election. I really hope this turns out for the better." Tubbo holds out their hands offering Tommy the pufferfish still cupped between them.

He inspects the item, memories of simpler times involving invisibility potions and plenty of laughs flooding back. He misses the days where everyone got along for the most part, when simple pranks didn’t start wars of bloodshed and destruction. A time where he and Tubbo were free to act like teenagers, no pressure from those higher in ranking to protect their own. Tommy allows a soft smile to take over his features.

He collects the token into his hand with much less delicacy than Tubbo displayed, but still with caution. "Thank you Tubbo. Shall I eat it?" He asks, ever the prankster.

"Noooo!" Tubbo retaliates, almost leaping off the bench at the idea of their prized possession being eaten.

"Okay, okay, I wasn't gonna. I wasn't gonna. Thank you Tubbo, I have just quite the appetite at the minute.” Tommy smirks, but locks eyes with his friend to assure the sincerity of his words. He summons his own inventory, and tucks the gift away to be transferred to his enderchest later.

“Oh!” Tubbo exclaims suddenly. They reach into thin air once more, this time producing a tattered green material. The fabric looks familiar, but foreign at the same time. Tubbo unrolls the fabric, spreading it across their lap. Still in mystery, Tommy looks to Tubbo for answers.

“It’s a piece of one if my old shirts!” they explain. 

“Tubbo, what the fuck? Why would you rip up a perfectly good shirt?”

“If you saw the state the shirt was in, you would have ripped it up too,” Tubbo chuckles. “It was missing most of the buttons up the front,” they gesture to the buttons all intact on the shirt they’re currently wearing, “and was overall quite dirty in spots. I salvaged what I could of it. At the time I wasn’t sure why I was saving a small piece of a shirt I have multiple of anyways, but after a few weeks of it sitting in my chest I thought I would give it to you, so you always have a piece of me with you!” Tubbos faces brightens for a moment, then fades as fast as it appeared. They fiddle with a loose thread between their fingers. “I'm sorry if this is weird I just thought-“

Tommy places a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder. “No, Tubbo, it’s fine. I totally get where you’re coming from. I gladly accept it.”

“Really?” they reply meekly.

“Really.”

The cheer returns to their face. They launch themself at Tommy wrapping both arms around his neck, and burying their cheek into the red fabric on his shoulder. Tommy is not big on physical affection normally, but with Tubbo it’s different. He returns the action and wraps his arms underneath Tubbo’s, reaching with one hand to card his fingers through their chestnut locks. When enough time had passed the two separate and locked eyes with each other once more.

“Thank you Tubbo, we're gonna win this." 

"We're gonna win this,” they affirm.

"Just remember no matter what happens we always have me and you big man, me and you, we'll do this alright?"

Tubbo nods strongly causing their hair to fall forward over their eyes. With a quick jerk of their head the hair is out of their way once more. With glossy eyes and a bright smile they hold out their hand to Tommy, calloused from the numerous projects completed since joining the server.

Tommy accepts the invitation, intertwining their fingers together. The boys squeeze one another’s hand periodically as a reassurance they are together through everything. When tears prick the corner of Tommy’s eyes out of fear for the future, Tubbo says nothing and runs their fingers over the bony knuckles of the hand in their grasp. In the slight chill of the evening, an everlasting duo found warmth.

A few hours later when Tommy and Wilbur are exiled from L'manberg and Tubbo is left behind, Tommy constantly checks the cloth hasn't fallen from the safety of his cloak pocket.

When Technoblade joins Pogtopia he questions his brother's attachment to the tattered green material, but is unsurprised at the same time knowing about the sentimental attachment he has to a few particular music discs.

The two brothers find themselves alone one evening while Wilbur is gone scheming. The piglin meticulously sharpens his netherite axe by the light of the fire, his regal cloak lain beside him on the cobblestone bench. The screeching sound of stone against metal mingles with the pops and crackles of the campfire. Tommy sits rigid, and shivering despite the nearby warmth. Techno watches his brother stare at the green fabric in his hands. Tommy doesn't notice he is being watched, lost in his own world swimming though memories, like how the threads of the very fabric he holds intertwine with one another. He subconsciously picks at a loose thread, stretching it out and letting it curl back in on itself. 

Techno isn't one to have many emotions towards others; no empathy and compassion, no despair, not even anger or resentment. Everyone, aside from Phil and the odd time his brothers, receive and unwavering, cold stare. However, Techno's curiosity has been peaked by the ordain fabric Tommy never leaves behind. He's seen the way Tommy grips the fabric with such intensity when Wilbur gets particularly frustrated with him. He seen the way Tommy looks at the fabric with great sorrow when he thinks no one is looking. He's seen from the shadows outside Tommy's cave the way he cries into the fabric, muffling his hiccups and drying his tears in the middle of the night.

That's how in this moment with just the two of them he decides to ask about it.

Techno places the axe on the bench with a thud which jostles Tommy from his daydreams. He leans forward with one elbow on his knee placing his chin in the clawed cup of his hand. Techno looks the younger dead in the eye.

"What's with this fabric you carry around everywhere?" Techno gestures lazily with a clawed finger. 

Tommy looks down at his lap thumbing the fabric.

"My friend gave it to me, before the election, a good luck charm if you will."

"Tubbo?"

Tommy nods.

"You shouldn't keep playing with it like that, one day it'll fray so bad it will all unravel."

Well, I don't know how to fix it, so I'll just hope that day doesn't come soon."

Techno hums in response. Tommy takes it as the end of the conversation, he begins neatly folding the material to be stowed back away in its rightful spot. Techno speaks again before Tommy raises from the bench.

"I could help you fix it, you know."

Tommy looks at the piglin with a raised eyebrow.

"You, the all-great and mighty Technoblade knows how to sew?" 

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Phil taught me years ago. It's quite a useful skill actually."

"Would you be willing to teach me?"

The fire crackles louder. A moment passes between the two.

"Sure. I suppose it'll give me a break from the potato farm. It's not like I've already got chestfuls of baked potatoes already," Techno finishes sarcastically.

Tommy chuckles.

"Wait here, I'll be back Tommy.

Tommy leans back against cold stone. He removes the fabric he just put away and unfolds it on his thigh. 

Techno soon returns to the campfire, a small wooden box in hand. On the way past the bench he was previously sitting on he gathers his cloak under one arm. The pig-hybrid places the box on the bench next to Tommy and continues past to stand behind him. Techno wraps the cloak around the scrawny teen like a blanket, and affectionately ruffles his blonde curls. Tommy resists the urge to nuzzle against the white down feathers of the crimson cloak.

Techno plops down on the same bench as Tommy, the wooden box between the brothers. He opens it with a squeak from the rusted hinges to reveal several needles, a small whittling knife, and an assortment of thread spools, each a different colour. Tommy is surprised by the sharpness of the needles, he assumes their pristine condition is from Techno's obsessive sharpening habits. 

Without a word he grabs the fabric off Tommy's lap placing it on his own. With pointed claws he selects two spools; one white, the other dark green, and holds them at his brother's eye level.

"Which?" Techno asks simply.

Tommy moves one arm from the warmth of the cocoon Techno created around him and lightly taps the dark green. He places the white spool back in the box, replacing it with one of the smaller needles out of the bunch.

The teen watches his brother pull a length of thread from the spool and quickly slash at it with the knife separating it from the spool. He brings one end of the thread to his mouth, lightly sucking it for a moment.

"Why do you do that?" Tommy asks

"Makes the individual threads of the one larger thread stick together. Easier to thread the needle, see?" A couple attempts at poking the thread through the eye of the needle and Techno is successful. He holds the needle upright at his eye level, pulls one end of the thread so the two ends are even with one another, and ties a double knot at the bottom. Next he takes the fabric and pushes the needle through a few centimeters back from the edge.

"I leave all the extra space so the stitch doesn't tear the fabric by being too close to the fraying edge," Techno tells the teen. Tommy nods in understanding, so Techno continues. 

Moving clockwise, he pokes the needle through the fabric again on the same side as before, tugging it until a small loop is created. Coming from the opposite side of the loop he sticks the needle through and pulls tauntly.

"I think Phil called this a whip-stitch. I remember him telling me it was good for stopping fraying edges, perfect for our little predicament." 

He completes a few more rows then offers it to Tommy to try. The teen fiddles with it for a couple minutes before giving it back to Techno in frustration.

"I don't understand how you got the spaces between your stitches so even! How did you pull all your stitches the same amount! I just don't fucking get it!"

"Hours of practice kid, you'll get it someday I'm sure."

"Phft, you learned from Phil. You had it easy. I have to try and learn from you, you anti-social pig."

"Hey! I don't think I did too badly walking you through the steps!"

Tommy rolls his eyes.

The two sit in silence listening to the fire crackle while Techno finishes the project. At one point Tommy takes a nearby piece of coal and doodles on the stone floor only to complain a few minutes later it won't get off his fingers. He figures Techno is done when he slashes at the thread once more with the whittling knife. He reaches out to accept the fabric back but Techno shakes his head no, the light from the fire flicking off his golden crown. 

"Shrug off my cloak and turn away from me."

Tommy reluctantly obliges.

Soon enough the fabric is gently wrapped around his neck. He can hear the material brushing against itself as Techno ties a knot, careful to avoid scratching Tommy's delicate human skin with his claws. A wearable accessory was the last thing Tommy would have guessed Techno would transform the piece of Tubbo's shirt into. Nevertheless, he's content with the outcome.

"There, done," the piglin tells him with a pat on the shoulder. 

Tommy turns back round to face Techno, admiring the handiwork his brother completed on his beloved item. Gently, he tests the waters by running his finger against the neat stitching.

"There, you can be as rough and tumble as you want with it now Tommy."

Tommy beams genuinely at the older.

"Thanks Techno. No really, I mean it for once."

Techno sighs. He gathers his cloak and wraps it around the both of them. With one arm he pulls Tommy into his side.

In a low voice he tells him, "Don't speak to Wilbur of this." Despite the shit-eating grin Tommy shoots back at him, he trusts the younger to keep this private, genuinely compassionate moment between the two of them.

Tommy thinks of the many old roughed up shirts he has kept and considers repaying his best friend back.


	2. Chapter 2

"Oi! Tubbo watch it!"

Tommy pushes Tubbo away, freeing him from the playful chokehold Tubbo had him in. Tommy sits up sparing a deadly glare at Tubbo. He ruffles his hair righting it from the wayward directions his friend had messed it to. Tubbo laughs maniacally, a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes as he tackles the other straight in the torso.The duo roll down the lush grass hill, scaring away bees and peacefully roaming cows.

Tubbo's laugh carries its way with prominence throughout the open air.

Tommy yells obscenities at his friend.

They carry no bite.

Tommy gets his revenge on the brunette digging one hand into their armpit and the other right underneath their chin. Tubbo pauses all movement waiting in anticipation for Tommy to continue.

"C'mon now Tubster, I've clearly won this."

"Hmmm. I don't think so."

He slaps away the hand hovering below his chin as quick as an ocelot. As soon as Tubbo makes his move Tommy basically teleports behind him digging both hands into his friend's sides and frantically moving his fingers about. Tubbo cannot contain the laughter that bursts from his throat. Tubbos attempts of pushing away Tommy through tears and staggered movements are fruitless. Soon enough Tommy has him pinned to the ground, the victim in question crying with laughter into a wild bunch of daisies.

Tubbo's yelps of, "Stop!" and "Please no my ribs hurt!" are muffled by the greenery.

The bees which have an unusual connection to the currently screaming teenager, a connection that no one else on the server can understand, slowly return from hiding to gather warily around the scene. Moments after Tubbo stops resisting Tommy's ministrations the sounds of buzzing fills his ears. 

A sign of incoming doom for the blonde.

Tommy forgoes torturing tickling his best friend in favour of retreating from the aggressive cluster of bees. He stumbles his way up the steep hillside, eyeing his railway formulating a last ditch getaway. Glancing back the bees are no longer trailing him with fury, yet he ducks behind a tree. Tommy leans heavily against it, gasping for air and what little dignity he's got left. 

"God, how does Dream do this for hours? I'm fucking winded!" he mutters to himself, and unintentionally a nearby chicken. It cocks its head swaying its red wattle. The white feathered bastard clucks mockingly at the teen. He kicks a stone at the pest not wanting to give it the light of day.

Tommy peaks out from behind the thick stump he's leaned up against, inwardly cursing how the bright red of his shirt clashes with the overworld. The bark grooves press at his chest. He watches his friend with the suddenly friendly, fuzzy overgrown insects. Most have wandered off searching for their next flower to collect nectar from. The few that stuck around hover excitedly around Tubbo each vying for attention. 

"Spinz! Spinz! I'm perfectly okay! See? He was just playin' around!" Tubbo holds his arms at length for the bee to get its inspection over with. It hovers close to Tubbo's side, lightly tapping its head against him in confirmation. Spinz warbles happily, an impossible trait for bees to learn naturally aside from the ones Tubbo raised. He places a hand atop Spinz rubbing it affectionately between its antennas. 

"Oh hey! Spunz! Spoonz! How's it going?"

The two other bees which stuck around energetically buzz around the boy. He laughs when their fuzz brushes against his cheek while they hover about. Tommy recognizes each bee by the different coloured ribbons he helped Tubbo pick out for them long ago. He takes this opportunity to cautiously reapproach. The bees quickly derive their attention from the bubbling laughter of the brunette to the intruder hovering defensively in front of Tubbo. The warbling lessens.

"Woah guys," Tommy holds out both hands defensively, "it's just me."

Tubbo moves, intentions to use himself as a barrier between his friend and the agressive bees. 

Tommy shakes his head lightly. "It's fine Tubbo, I got this."

He stands as still as a statue while the bees with red angry eyes hover closer. A gust of wind blows from behind Tommy pushing his scent in the direction of the bees. Upon recognization of the teen their clouded minds are filled with happy memories. The rage dissipates from their eyes and they warble again. The trio surround him, butting their heads against all parts of his body in a greeting. Unamused Tommy tries to swat the bees away with no success. With a huff he gives up and deadpans at Tubbo.

"Can you control your pets maybe? The lil' shits won't leave me alone!"

Tubbo stiffle his laughter, covering the smile with his shirt sleeve. Seeing as no help is coming Tommy lays down in the lush grass. The bees follow, prodding at his belly. Still giggling, Tubbo wanders over and lies beside his best friend. The orange glow of the sunset sky sets over the duo. 

"My clothes are a mess, how about you?" Tommy picks mindlessly at a stain of dirt.

He shruga. "Eh, they've been through worse honestly."

"Well you better hope Schlatt doesn't catch you walking back into Manberg with that rip on your knee."

Tubbo glances down, judging the state of his predicament. 

"Well I guess I'll just have to be sneaky!"

"Dude you're shit at sneaking about, you're the clumsiest person I know!" Tommy cackles. 

Tubbo furrows his eyebrows in thought.

"I suppose I have an extra set of clothes I could change into from the chest in your vacation home."

"You're totally right! Actually, leave your jeans with me. I'll try out my sewing skills on them." Tommy proudly tugs at his green neck-bandana. 

"Fine, but if it looks crap they're going in the bin."

Tommy jumps up suddenly, startling the bees which had just come to settle around them. 

"There's no time to waste! I want to be here when the fireflies come out!"

He holds out his hand to Tubbo, which they accept, hauling them up as well. Their hands remain connected as they run up the hill towards the home, tugging at one another as they go. Within a couple minutes, the moon now finding its place in the night sky, the teens emerge from the small home and make their way back down the hill with much more caution than previous in the day. The bees left the meadow, returning to their nest for the night.

The boys roughhouse lightly in the grass once more as the sun fully sets. When the fireflies finally make an appearance they settle next to one another, hand in hand. Tubbo describes the constellations in the night sky while Tommy holds out a finger for the lightning bugs to perch on. Tubbo begins to notice how his friend's hand dips ever so slightly as time passes, and his eyelids slowly lower. He smiles softly when the blondes head comes to rest on his shoulder and doesn't pull away, the younger lulled to sleep by Tubbo's voice. Knowing Tommy's terrible sleeping habits back in Pogtopia he makes the executive decision to not wake Tommy and spend the night out in the meadow with him.

Gently bringing his friend to lie back in the dirt with himself, he positions him on his chest and wraps an arm around his shoulders in a comfortable embrace for the two of them. Soon enough, watching the fireflies zip about, he too drifts into a deep slumber.

Hiding in the heavy tree foliage, an amber furred fox-hybrid watches a tired, defeated young man donning a tan cloak disappear into the holiday home and return with a worn backpack and quilted blanket. A worried gasp catches in the back of his throat as the man approaches the slumbering teens. His concern lessens when he kneels, brushing hair away from the green-shirted boy's forehead, and gently presses a kiss to the now exposed skin. The man smiles softly, the moon illuminating a single tear which rolls down his cheek and falls, splotching the boy's shirt. With the quilted blanket he cocoons the boy in it. He continues to gather the lanky blonde in his arms, forcing himself to walk away from the teen left on the ground. When the fox is sure the man is gone he tiptoes to the teen left behind and gently taps them on the shoulder. They first wake up in a panic, but sadness takes over their features when realizing their friend is gone. The fox locks eyes with the teen, knowing all too well the feeling of abandonment. He offers a paw, which is hesitantly accepted. 

The once proud soldiers trudge back to their 'home'.

"OUCH! YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" Tommy's anguished cry echoes in the cavernous ravine. It's been a few days since he met with Tubbo. He was surprised to wake in his own bed back in Pogtopia. He could've sworn no one knew of their meeting, and honestly he's too afraid to ask which one of his brothers carried him back from the meadow. His best bet is Wil, Techno wouldn't have had the decency to bring him to his own bed; the pig hybrid would have most likely ditched him on the sitting stones by the fire where he currently sits.

"You good down there?" Wilbur's voice calls from the enchantment room. 

"Just a lil' poke from a needle! Nothing that won't kill me!" Tommy jokes.

Wilbur pokes his head out with a raised eyebrow.

"A needle?" he asks. "What are you doing with one of them?"

"Sewing, duh." Tommy replies matter of factly.

“Sewing what though?"

Tommy quickly leans over his project.

"That, my friend, is none of your goddamn business."

"Where the hell did you even learn to sew?"

"The Blade."

"Techno knows how to sew? The fuck?" 

"I had the same reaction." 

"Have fun with that then I guess…" he trails off. Wilbur casts his brother a suspicious glance then returns to his enchanting.

Tommy waits a beat to make sure Wilbur has gone back to what he was doing then inspects his finger. It's nothing bad. A dot of blood has collected at his fingertip which he sucks on to stop the bleeding, disgusted by the combined taste of metallic blood and dirt from under his nail. He chucks a piece of firewood into the flames to stop the chills travelling through his thin tunic and down his arms before turning his attention back to his project.

The rip in the knee of Tubbo's jeans is nearly fixed. He hopes Tubbo won't be turned off by the dodgy stitching or clashing red material he used to patch the hole, along with a few others littered about the pair. The red material is in fact from one of his old tunics, which he is glad to return the sentimentality Tubbo began by giving him a piece of their shirt.

Along with patching up their jeans, he also made Tubbo a handkerchief to wear in the breast pocket of their suit. Seeing as Schlatt mandates all citizens of Manberg wear suits, Tubbo would not be able to display their piece of Tommy through their jeans. Tommy thought a hint of red in their breast pocket would fit nicely. Most importantly, he hopes the new addition to their attire will go unquestioned by Schlatt.

So here Tommy sits with the most continuous concentration he has exhibited in awhile, delicately attaching fraying jean to a worn piece of tunic. So enveloped in his task, his misses the tapping of Techno's hooves against stone, becoming spooked when he approaches suddenly. Techno's red eyes study his handiwork. He hums in acknowledgement. His tone gives no indication as to whether he approves of Tommy's work or not. Before he can ask, the piglin has already slunk off to his potato farm, netherite sword trailing against the ground and a diamond hoe slung over his shoulder. His red cape billows outward from the force he turns the corner.

Tommy stays put til the fire dwindles. He finishes, holding the jeans out with a scrutinizing eye. He decided the jeans are patched well enough and neatly folds and tucks them under his arm on the walk to his sleeping quarters. He sloppily buries them under other items in his backpack and collapses onto his bed. Despite the exhaustion which settled in his bones nightmares wake him throughout the night.

The following day he continuously checks the clock in his inventory to the suspicion of Techno and Wilbur. Midday was when he decided to meet with Tubbo next, Tommy is very eager to return the fixed up trousers to his friend. When Techno makes his daily trip to the forest to scrounge for materials, and Wilbur is much occupied with plans to take down Manberg, the teen sees the moment is fit for him to sneak away from Pogtopia. 

With speed Tommy darts to his cave and hooks his pre-packed backpack over a shoulder. From there he silently makes his way up the stone staircase. He takes in the blinding sensation of sunlight having been under the dim lighting of lanterns for a couple days. The smells of pine and semi-distant seawater consume his sense of smell. Again, Tommy is not opposed to smells which are different from the grungy ravine. Using a pattern of trees he has long engraved in his mind he finds his way to the outskirts of Manberg, his holiday home peaking through the fog leftover from the morning dew.

Although not exactly in enemy territory, he swerves behind trees to stay on the safe side. He clutches the bandana around his neck with minor anxiety as he runs. When he deems he has put enough distance between Manberg and himself he sighs a breath of relief and slows his pace. Not having a minecart the teen walks with esteemed balance along the minecart tracks. 

Tubbo sits on the wooden stairs to the holiday home. He plucks strands of grass from the dirt, tying them in knots before throwing them into the wind. Tubbo stares out at the sea thinking of nothing in particular.

A shout and wave from his blonde haired friend pulls them from the trance. They stand as Tommy rushes up the track and practically jumps on top of them, smothered in a hug.

"Well it's good to see you too, Clingyinnit!" Tubbo chuckles. He rubs their hands comfortingly up and down his back.

"Shut it bitchboy."

Eventually the duo part and sit out on the balcony. Tommy pops a music disc in the jukebox. He scrumages through the bag between his legs. When he finds what he is looking for he turns his head to Tubbo.

"You ready?"

"Sure?" Tubbo replies, excited and confused.

He pulls Tubbo's fixed jeans from the bag and unfolds them for Tubbo to see his work.

"Tommy! That's amazing! How did yo-"

"I know, I'm the best." Tommy says sarcastically.

Tubbo takes the jeans from Tommy and spalys them across their lap. They gently run a finger over Tommy's improved stitching and the patches of red fabric.

"Did you chop up one of your shirts for this?" he asks.

"Ya, but don't fret it. I had old ones kicking around like you that were ready for the bin anyways. Check the right pocket, made something else for you."

Tubbo delves a hand into the suggested pocket, tongue sticking out in concentration. He pulls out a small square of the same red fabric. Confused, he looka to Tommy for answers.

"It's a handkerchief you moron, I thought you could wear it in the breast pocket of that god-awful suit of yours. Brighten it up a bit."

"That's actually a good idea! Thanks Tommy!"

The two chat about anything but the looming festival on the deck for many hours. At one point Tommy checks his clock and realizes he's gone past the time he set out to be back at Pogtopia by. With a quick, yet longing farewel hug, and wishes for his friend to stay safe out there, and takes off with speed in the direction of Pogtopia.

Tubbo sits back on the bench watching the sun, his chin cupped in his hand. "Typical Tommy…" he shakes his head.

Schlatt turns out to be impressed, and just the slightesy bit suspicious by the minor change in Tubbo's appearance. 

"You're looking good my right hand man!"

The brunette touches a hand to the pocket square, wishing for his friend to be by their side.

For now, a shared patch will have to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this update, already got a good idea for the final chapter! 
> 
> I just went back and changed all of when I used pronouns for Tubbo to he/him for this chapter, I had previously thought Tubbo used he/they. Moving forward I will only be using he/him pronouns for Tubbo, sorry for any confusion.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I hope you like this! Planning to update again soon! If you want come be my friend on twitter my @ is blockiebee!


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